Nothing More Dishonest or, the Courtier's Progress
by Meryton
Summary: "But regardless of any open door policy, certain trappings of royalty had to be maintained, or restored as was the case with the ladies-waiting." A seemingly innocuous proposal to expand the royal court launches a game of ballroom politics and backroom rivalries.
1. The Chamberlain's Concession

**Chapter 1: The Chamberlain's Concession**

In the days when people lived stories rather than told them, the land of Arendelle was blessed by rule of the Elsa the Snow Queen. The turbulent beginnings of her reign have been recounted elsewhere. In the end, Queen Elsa was hailed as the sovereign of that small nation. She ended the Hermitage of the royal family, and opened the once isolated and lonely palace. But regardless of any open door policy, certain trappings of royalty had to be maintained, or restored as was the case with the ladies-waiting.

The idea of restoring the office, suggested to Her Majesty during her inspection of the palace, was received with measured curiosity by her and with undisguised joy by the Princess, who was in ear-shot of the conversation. The Mistress of the Robes, who had originally proposed the subject, was upstaged. But while the enthusiasm of the Princess certainly eclipsed hers, she persevered in their now shared cause.

The Princess joined Her Majesty in her inspection, if only to tell her how terribly she wanted to spend time with girls of her age. The Mistress of the Robes would interject with a supportive and exclamatory "Indeed" or "Just so" when appropriate. The Queen would nod thoughtfully, and eventually withdrew into a thoughtful silence. Her subjects knew to interpret this as acceptance. The progress passed through halls and hallways until gradually dismissed. The high arch to the Queen's chambers finally admitted in only the royal personage.

During lunch with the Princess, the Royal Ice Master raised modest opposition towards the return of the ladies-in-waiting. He feared that the introduction of more courtiers would diminish his own position. He did not speak this fear, and scarcely acknowledged it. Instead he suggested that that the palace would not benefit from flatterers and hangers-on.

The Princess asserted that she had the good sense not associate with flatterers and hangers-on, and that the ladies-in-waiting would certainly be the kindest and sweetest girls. The Royal Ice Master appealed to the general degeneracy of mankind, and lunchtime passed with many other unkind remarks.

Her Majesty did not have much to say on the subject. The course of state progressed with considerable speed, and the necessary acts and motions seemed to pass the moment they were proposed. Such were things at the court of the Snow Queen, where efficiency and placidity were the watchwords. .

The motion was publicised by the joint efforts of the Mistress of the Robes, the Royal Chamberlain, and several Councilmen including the Chancellor. At lunch, over tea, and during dinner the restoration of the ladies-in-waiting was mentioned, and surprise feigned when someone had not yet heard the news. The newly enlightened parties would repeat this process, glad to act the part of the insiders.

And as rumour makes a post-horse of the wind, as the Bard writes, all relevant household both sides of the mountain were soon prepared for muster. The return of the office abolished during the Hermitage was thus passed onto the general public as a given. There was such a thing as too many announcements, too many sweeping declarations, and too many changes.

After the Princess had been made aware that selecting ladies-in-waiting did not amount to ennobling her acquaintances, the responsibility for the task fell upon the Mistress of the Robes and the Chamberlain, who had been variably happily married for many years. While the Princess trembled in anticipation, the Mistress of the Robes chose to abuse her authority in the selection of the ladies-in-waiting.

"You know," she said to the Chamberlain over tea, "Hilda would make an excellent companion to Her Majesty".

The Chamberlain was disarmed by this, as his wife desired. He had never liked his niece, but could not impugn the girl who knew the sweetest way to call his wife 'Aunt Gerda'. "She could be considered," he eventually answered.

The Mistress of the Robes advanced. "She is almost Her Majesty's age, is well-read and –mannered, and has always been good company," she said.

"I do not think you can judge fairly in that regard," said the Chamberlain, and gave up on enjoying tea. A mere mention of his sister Hulda's side of the family would cast a shadow over an otherwise fine day. "Hilda knows how to honey her words and please here elders."

"Is it any wonder if she pleases her elders if she only has Hulda for company in the country?" asked the Mistress of the Robes. "Hulda has not been particularly favoured in town since Johan passed away. You have some misgivings about your sister, I know, but Hilda is still a girl in some regards. Her faults will fade."

It was certainly true that Hilda did not live in circumstances most auspicious for the development of a respectable young lady. The Chamberlain did not answer, for while it is embarrassing enough for a man to be afraid of his niece, it would be intolerable to retract such a long-held opinion.

"If Hilda was to join the court, she would grow into her own", the Mistress of the Robes continued, sensing that the Chamberlain's defences were flagging. "She might even find a husband, and her mother would have a reason to return to town."

It was with great displeasure that the Chamberlain realised that he was not arguing against just his wife. It was to even greater displeasure that he realised an extended exchange of letters between Hulda and his wife was unlikely, even with the speed of rumour to aid them.

"Gerda," he said, "did _Hulda _suggest to you that the ladies-in-waiting should be restored?"

The Mistress of the Robes might as well have been accused of high treason for how startled she looked. She did not need to say anything; for the Chamberlain knew everything she could have said. She grabbed her teacup with both hands and stared into it.

The Chamberlain likewise occupied himself with the depths of his teacup. Hulda had indeed not been particularly welcome in town after Johan Gripp died. His faction in the Council of the Realm dissolved to give way to Chancellor Burke. During the Hermitage of the royal family, it was the Council who ruled, and Hulda was almost the wife of the Chancellor. But that was before the coronation, before the winter in summer, and before the Snow Queen revealed herself to the world.

He supposed that Hulda knew as well as any who held the reins of power in Arendelle now, and who stood above all others in the realm.

"Kai" the Mistress of the Robes said, and the Chamberlain raised his head.

"Hulda was the one who suggested restoring the ladies-in-waiting in a letter." Her words, once spoken, had the certainty and weight of an avalanche. "She wanted for Hilda to serve at court. I for one can see no reason to deny your niece such a wonderful opportunity."

The Chamberlain, well and truly buried, once again turned towards his teacup. He was now aware that denying Hilda would not earn him the ire of his wife, but the eternal enmity of his sister, his niece, and the house of Gripp. His sister, as it once again evident to the Chamberlain, did not lack in persuasion.

The ladies-in-waiting, to the dismay of the Princess and to the growing dread of the Royal Ice Master, would be officially inducted to the Court in autumn. Until then, the Chamberlain did not rest until the list of appointees was diverse and balanced enough to counter the influence of his sister. He shared with his wife the responsibility for reviewing the applications and recommendations for the office, and he took to the task with fervent industry.

In his quest for the perfect formula of appointees, the Chamberlain adopted the mien of alchemists old. He browsed through letters and pored through books of heraldry and genealogy to compose his _magnum opus_, which would represent both high-born and self-made houses, which would offend no side and please all, and which would favour no family or faction over others. Above all, his formula would counteract what he saw as the acid of the House of Gripp. His wife interpreted this all as one of those bouts of obsessive foolishness that overtake men from time to time.

Once Arendelle began to pass into Autumn, the Chamberlain and the Mistress of the Robes attended Her Majesty to present the final proposal. The Chamberlain presented the list of appointees to Her Majesty with a solemnity that only he acknowledged.

Her Majesty declared that the the ladies on the document belonged to good and respectable families, and that she had met many of them and personally discerned that they were all pleasant and courteous.

"But," the Queen said and let that one word hang in the like a musical note, "I notice that although you have reviewed and revised this list many times now, Kai, you have never struck off the name of your niece, Lady Hilda Gripp."

The Chamberlain prepared to speak, but the Queen raised her hand and smiled gently. "I do not mean to criticise you, Kai", she said. "There is nothing wrong with wanting for your niece to follow in your footsteps. You and Gerda have served my family with distinction for many years, and if you two have found Lady Hilda acceptable, then that is enough. You have made her qualifications already clear during these meetings. I would be honoured to accept her into my service."

It was as if a wave washed over Kai (who in that moment bore no other title). While Gerda bowed her head in humility, Kai thanked Her Majesty profusely, and was returned the document once it bore the script of royal hand. He returned to his duties humbled, for he realised that for all of his industry and scheming, he had never simply spoken of his worries to Her Majesty.

It was too late for that, for Kai felt that to do so was to confess perjury. And yet he was unburdened: Kai felt that even if her sister was to have a spy at court, the forces of decency and goodness could never be overcome as long as Her Majesty and the Princess would hold their place. They would certainly not fail because of any pettiness on his part, or because of the ambitions of his sister.

Lady Hilda Gripp, daughter of the late Councilman Johan Gripp, niece to the Royal Chamberlain, and first cousin once removed to the Baron of Gripp, was thus attached as a lady-in-waiting to Her Majesty, the Queen of Arendelle.


	2. Spirited Discussion

**Author's Note:**

**Harken, Dear Reader! Have you had the privilege and burden to read this story from the very beginning? If so, it is my duty to inform you then that the previous instalment of this story was cut short to my great shame: there was more to the Chamberlain's story and the appointment of his niece to service at court than was originally recorded. You will find the instalment revised to reflect this. If you have copy of the journal it was published in, use the closest adhesive substance at hand to cover the old version with the revised chapter. If you have been reading this story aloud to your illiterate friends, inform them that the copy you read previously had been partially devoured by rats and that you wish to delight them with both the complete text and the following new instalment.**

**With kind regards,**

**The Author.**

**Chapter 2: Spirited Discussion**

One imbalance in the Chamberlain's formula escaped his scrutiny and the notice of his wife. For this he cannot be greatly criticised, as inward collusion and petty conspiracy have always pervaded Arendelle, and for all his work it would have been likely better to draw lots. The final roll of ladies-in-waiting attached Kristina Burke, daughter of Chancellor Burke, and Helga Calland, daughter of Reeve Calland. Kristina and Helga, both nineteen years of age, would serve under Her Majesty and the Princess, respectively.

The Chancellor and the Reeve were good friends, and had become acquainted through the Reeve's brother, Dean Calland. The Dean was a direct subordinate and expected successor of the Bishop, and silent supporter of the Chancellor. Chancellor Burke felt that his friendship with the Reeve well redeemed the platitudes of the Dean, for the Chancellor and the Reeve were the only educated and respectable men in Arendelle who could match each other when bottles of spirits were opened and emptied.

Both men had applied independently to have their daughters enter the court. Once they discovered this in their correspondence, they conspired to continue their applications independent of each other, so that if one failed, there would still be a chance that a lady friendly to the Chancellor's faction placed in the palace near Her Majesty. It was an occasion of great joy for them to discover that both applications were accepted, and the possibility of a great alliance between Kristina and Helga as ladies-in-waiting was considered.

After the autumn colours had conquered Arendelle, the Reeve journeyed through the North Pass to town to deliver his daughter unto the court. The ladies-in-waiting would not be officially introduced until all had been gathered so that none would gain undue precedence. The Chancellor, on examining the final list of appointees, divined in it a design to balance the various factions and interests of the realm that did not take into account his informal association with the Callands.

Fearful of a sudden reversal of fortune, he decided that the Reeve should visit his house only once while in town so that no great suspicions would be directed at them. The unfortunate result of this was there was only one occasion upon which Kristina and Helga would be able to reacquaint themselves with each other before they entered the court, and only one chance for the Chancellor to sample some new Eastern imports with the Reeve.

Such were the circumstances that led to the gentlemen, after dinner, to direct the girls to Kristina's room so that they could themselves contend with a Spirit all-together unfamiliar to the reverend Dean. Lest it be thought otherwise, this was in accordance with the will of the Chancellor's wife. Lady Burke, whom the Chancellor married for her constitution and a level-headedness that could not be diminished by a joyous evening, in fact joined the contest. All three were in unspoken agreement that drinking could comfortably habit the same as house as a young lady, as long as doors and stairs separated the two.

The friendship of Kristina and Helga had been long, and it lived and grew in brief spurts, during the Reeve's visits to town with his daughter or during Helga's stays with his uncle the Dean. Their company was a luxury for each other, for it was not diluted by the vicissitudes of everyday life. It became a sort of escape for them, and although this quality of respite had degraded with time, it never ceased to be the foundation of their friendship. Even now in Kristina's room it allowed them to happily ignore the frivolity of their elders downstairs.

The room, which Kristina shared with her older sister before the latter married, was once again enlivened by the chatting of young ladies. As the hours passed, the subject of the conversation inevitably drifted again and again towards their future vocation, and in that particular regard Kristina played mentor to Helga. The latter had not yet had the honour of visiting the palace and Her Majesty, and so she sought advice from Kristina.

"The Queen is simply the most wonderful person I have ever met," Kristina replied to one query, "and her court is a place of miracles."

"Is she as pretty as everyone says?" asked Helga. "I am afraid that I might seem too plain besides her."

Helga did not in fact consider herself too plain, but only plain enough that she would have to work harder for recognition. In this aspect she wished to emulate Kristina, who was undoubtedly plainer than her, but did not seem to take notice either of her plainness or that Helga had outgrown her in stature.

"She is not pretty," said Kristina, with mock outrage that faded away as soon as she continued. "She is beautiful, and quite certainly the most beautiful woman in Arendelle, if not in the world. Most people would seem plain next to her, I suppose."

"And her sister? I have heard that she is terribly kind."

"Oh, the Princess is very pretty and kind, and very funny also," said Kristina, in an only less hallowed tone of voice. "If I were not attached to Her Majesty, I would gladly serve the Princess. And I am certain that I shall become friends with her when we enter into service."

Helga was not at all assuaged in her anxieties, and Kristina seemed to realise that this all might be intimidating for her friend.

"But I cannot say I agree much about her choice of suitor," Kristina said, in order to move onto a topic where she could show less respect. "This is Arendelle, and my grandfather was a tradesman, but the Royal Ice Master–"

The laughter of the Reeve downstairs interrupted Kristina before she could speak aloud something all-together unkind. Helga felt thankful for her father, and decided to take up his example by changing the subject.

"But what about Her Majesty's suitors?" Helga asked, after recalling her father's past mention of them. "I heard that they have all left now."

"Oh, that lot?" said Helga, with no effort to hide the contempt in her voice. "They came into the palace through the summer. They were like vultures, honestly. No house dared to send their best, so we received third sons and foreign adventurers. And it does not really matter, since none of them could draw fire".

"I'm sorry, Kristina, what do you mean by 'draw fire'?" Helga asked in honest confusion.

"Well, I heard that none of them could even create a single spark!" Kristina exclaimed, now honestly outraged. "Her Majesty is the Snow Queen, is she not? Of course her husband should be her equal. It would not be very interesting if she married _just _a prince. She should marry the Prince of Fire or the King of Flames or someone else like that."

"I do not think that such princes exist," said Helga, after some thought.

"I am sure that that they do. At least people who can create fire out of nothing. Her Majesty is proof of that. I have read many books on natural philosophy, and they say that things exist in categories. There are categories of plants, and rocks, and of animals, and of natural phenomena. So there must be a category for people like Her Majesty. And she is such a wondrous woman, how could she be with anyone else but her equal?"

Helga could say little to that, for she had assumed that Kristina read nothing but novels and silly poems. When she realised this she inwardly cursed her prejudice, and to cover her shame, she decided to debate with Kristina.

"But what if they are not her equals?" asked Helga. "What if they are very dull, even if they were capable of sorcery?"

"How could they be dull if they knew sorcery? How could they be anything but the most wondrous people if they could create fire from nothing?"

"They could be very poor company besides that. They might be very proud, or rude, or very boring. I am sure that Her Majesty would be as wonderful if she were not the Snow Queen," replied Helga.

Kristina had evidently not considered that, for she thought upon it a good deal.

"Well," she said as she returned after musing enough, "I am sure that there are people worthy of Her Majesty's kindness. She should only associate with the best of people."

"Does that make us the best of people?" asked Helga, with directness that she did not intend.

Once again Kristina had to pause to consider Helga's words, and in a few moments spoke: "That would be presumptuous. It is very rude for anyone to say that they are the best of people, even it were true. People who call themselves the best of people cannot be the best of people, for they would be proud and rude to do so. One is only the best of people if others think so. So we are not the best of people, but we might be considered such if serve Her Majesty well."

Helga was lost for words for Kristina's insight. The trick to overcoming one's plainness, it seemed to her, was simply to be confident, direct, and sure. The revelation did nothing for her fears, but only led her to perceive a great gulf between herself and fine ladies such as Kristina. A raucous laughter broke downstairs once again.

Their conversation continued in the same vein, until a strange silence overtook the house. The gaiety downstairs had died down without warning, and Kristina and Helga could a discussion held outside of the window. The room's window granted a view of the street, and the young ladies saw that a cariole had stopped outside. It carried two ladies dressed in dark colours, one old and one young. The former was engaged in negotiation with the Chancellor's butler. In a few moments a servant knocked on the door and informed the young ladies that they might receive visitors.

"I know who they are, but I do not believe that my father would ever let them in, especially now that he is with friends," Kristina said to Helga.

Her prediction proved false, however, for the ladies made to step off the cariole. Alarum could be heard downstairs, as the Chancellor was directing the servants in a raised voice:

"Hurry up! Quickly! The Chamberlain's sister is here! Clear up the bottles and the glasses! Where the Devil is my mouthwash? ―"


	3. The Ladies Gripp

**Chapter 3: The Ladies Gripp**

The young ladies joined the Chancellor's party downstairs to greet the visitors who had so rudely interrupted the evening merriment. Kristina and Helga descended in a hurry, and saw that the two ladies were now well into the entrance hall. They did not at first seem to Helga worth the alarm, but what the Reeve's daughter lacked in confidence she compensated in perception,and thus had learned not to hold onto assumptions.

The older visitor was a stout woman of great dignity, who signalled her every movement with pomp and preparation. This led to her unfurling her scarf very slowly, and to delay her greeting of the household. While she may have been beautiful once, it looked to Helga that she had traded any female enchantment for the propriety that well-aged women possess.

The younger lady hesitated to advance before the confidence of the older lady persuaded her to advance forthright. She was tall and handsome, and blessed with beautiful raven hair, as was evident to all when she removed her bonnet. She possessed perfect poise, but for all her beauty and grace, she remained as if in the shadow of the older lady.

Chancellor Burke met the two ladies in respectable form, having lost all flush of excitement of his face. Although he was tall and broad enough that he might bear heavy over others, he applied himself in an easy and relaxed manner. His wife reflected his stateliness, but the Reeve remained at the back as not to seem uncouth for his unsteadiness.

"Greetings, Lady Hulda," said the Chancellor, with care and weight, "It is good to see you again, but we did not expect you until tomorrow."

"Oh, I must apologise, your Excellency!" exclaimed the older lady, with good and healthy cheer. "I have received an urgent letter from home, and must depart on the morning. I have already paid respects to Her Majesty, my brother, and my son. And as Your Excellency does not seem to be at all occupied, I thought it best to pay my respects to you too."

No one was satisfied with the explanation save for Lady Hulda, but the Chancellor did not falter, and introductions and reintroductions soon followed.

"You of course remember my daughter Hilda," said Lady Hulda. She motioned towards the younger lady, who curtseyed at the mention. "And it seems that I have chosen a good time to visit" she continued as she acknowledged the Reeve and Helga. "We now have three ladies here who shall soon serve at court. And greetings to you too, Mr. Calland."

Helga inwardly bristled at becoming involved, and the Reeve straightened himself with suddenness when he was finally acknowledged, and returned the greetings stiffly. Lady Hulda proceeded to converse merrily with the Chancellor and Mrs. Burke, who spoke of their relations and daily affairs in strained notes. Kristina, seeing that she and Helga had no more part to play, leaned over to whisper to her friend: "That is Hulda Gripp. Her husband was a Councilman, and she lives with his cousin, Baron Gripp. Her son is in the Navy." After a pause, she added: "And her brother is the Royal Chamberlain."

Upon the latter note Helga quickly discerned that Lady Hulda, although possessing little rank, was of great influence at court. The Chancellor's diplomatic stance seemed well justified to Helga when Lady Hulda spoke again without any of her previous mirth.

"Your Excellency, I apologise for being blunt, but have you been drinking while a young lady is visiting your house?" she asked, craning her head towards Helga before turning again to the Chancellor. The vapours that the merrymaking had produced had found their way into the entrance hall, and a painful silence fell over the hall before the Chancellor answered.

"Lady Hulda," he said, "the Callands are dear and old family friends, and I do not think that sharing a drink with Mr. Calland is at all wrong."

Helga did not feel the need to defend or criticise His Excellency, for this matter was for elders and not young ladies to decide, so she remained quiet.

"Your Excellency, I hope that you being truthful when you are speaking in the singular," said Lady Hulda, who grew graver with every word. "It was certainly not my intention to interrupt any celebration."

"You need not fear that, madam. You have always been welcome in my house," said the Chancellor. Lady Hulda regained her good mood with some reluctance, and the conversation continued with less bitter pleasantries. Helga felt reprieve was over her like the waves, if only ever so briefly, for Lady Hulda's manner would subject her and Kristina to more tortures.

The party, visitors included, eventually migrated from the hall into the parlour. It was here that the Chancellor's courtesy became obsequiousness, for Lady Hulda was seated as to hold court over the household. She stood opposite of the Chancellor, his wife, and the now dignified Reeve, while the young ladies sat to the side of this arrangement.

It was upon such a field that Lady Hulda waged her campaign, the objective of which was none other than for her to rule over the house of His Excellency. Even if it would only be for the evening, she desired to humble the man who had profited from her dear husband's death so grossly as to become Chancellor. Thus she strove to provoke and demean the Chancellor through intimation and innuendo.

"I have not been to town often after my dear husband's passing, Your Excellency," she began one assay, "and it seems that everything is all-together changed whenever I visit. Before summer, I believe that you faced all the burdens of leading the state. But now that I am here again after the coronation, you seem greatly relieved."

"That is natural now that Her Majesty has come of age," said the Chancellor. "I am happy to serve her, for she makes Arendelle greater by her very presence."

"My brother agrees with you, Your Excellency. He tells me that she is remarkably industrious, and that he is quite absorbed with relaying her wishes to Your Excellency."

Such were Lady Hulda's assaults upon the noble Chancellor, and on occasion she would address Lady Burke and the Reeve. An experienced observer could easily recognise in her address the tone one may assume when speaking of or for in-laws. Lady Burke she questioned on the state of the household, and the Reeve she interrogated on his association with the Chancellor, and both on what had transpired before she graced them with her presence.

The Chancellor was hesitant to censure the sister of the Royal Chamberlain, and so Lady Hulda faced little resistance, and the evening was dominated by her dictation. Lady Burke would later confess to her husband that she was quite upset, while the honourable Reeve would state that he was seriously discomfited. But it was the young ladies that suffered the most, for Kristina and Helga had to suffer seeing their parents needled, and a gracious young lady such as Hilda could not have been glad to see her mother test courtesy.

The Chancellor was not ignorant of the discomfort of the young ladies, and before Lady Hulda made another observation upon the odours that still lingered in the air, suggested that the young ladies should acquaint themselves better with each other. Lady Hulda agreed heartily, and Kristina and Helga retreated with Hilda to Kristina's room.

Kristina was thus allowed to introduce Hilda properly to Helga: "You should be introduced properly. Kristina, this is Hilda. She studied with Rebekka. You met her brother once. Our families know each other well. Hilda, this is Helga, my friend. Her father, Mr. Calland, is the Reeve north of the Pass."

Helga exchanged greetings with Hilda, and the young ladies seated themselves around the humble table in Kristina's room. "I must apologise for my mother," said Hilda. "She can be quite overbearing, but I do not think she meant anyserious harm." Her apology did little to ease the silence that fell over them, and Hilda looked pointedly around the room for a topic. "It looks like a bed has been moved from here," she said. "Did you share this room with Rebekka?"

"Yes, it has been mine since she wed."

"She must be more concerned with her marriage bed, then," said Hilda. The conversation then proceeded tentatively around Kristina's older sister, as her marriage and move overseas with her young husband's business proved safe subjects. The veil of uneasiness that Lady Hulda had lain over the evening began to retreat, and the previously reserved Hilda revealed herself to be a most cheerful, and polite, and gifted with an enchanting smile. The young ladies were quite content in their conversation, until Hilda wondered what Rebekka thought of Her Majesty's eventful coronation.

"I suppose she was quick to sent letters during summer," said Hilda.

"She was very surprised" said Kristina. "She cannot return here easily, so she has nothing but our letters and rumours to go on. When it comes to Her Majesty, that is. I think that she does not believe what we write to her."

Helga seized on the moment, as she too had little to believe about the events of the summer. "Were you here during the coronation, Hilda?" asked Helga.

"Why, I was in the castle, along with my mother," answered Hilda. "I witnessed what happened, if that is what you meant to ask."

Helga indeed had meant just that, but she had hoped to be so transparent, "I wanted to know more about Her Majesty, since I shall be serving her sister in the palace. I would not want to disappoint either of them," said Helga, and looked to Kristina. Her friend was fortunately not concerned with that Helga circumvented her, as she was just as interested in what Hilda might say of Her Majesty.

"You have not met her, have you?" asked Hilda. "I assume that you are quite intimidated, but I would think you strange if you were not, Helga. Her Majesty is a wondrous woman, in every aspect. And as for the coronation, it was quite a frightening time for all of us. I was afraid for my life then. I imagine that it was terrible in the north, too. But you do not need to fear her freezing you or anything like that."

"Her Majesty did not intend any of what happened then!" Kristina said with conviction. "It was all a great misunderstanding, and no harm was done to us. Helga, Her Majesty is very kind, and would never try to freeze you."

"I did not mean to condemn Her Majesty" said Hilda. "She cannot be blamed for what happened then, but I was, in all honesty, quite frightened. We were all blessed to reach as happy a conclusion as we did."

"And we did. I was frightened then, too, but I have learned to love Her Majesty as has everyone else. We do not need to fear Her Majesty at all."

"I do not fear Her Majesty, Kristina, but _for_ her. While she is blessed in many regards, she also has her wants, which is why we all have been called to serve her and her sister. You must have realised that there are people who would like to hurt or exploit Her Majesty, for she is unlike anyone in the world. She needs people that she can trust, which is why she will have ladies-in-waiting. My mother is merely glad to have me serve at court and represent my family, but it is my uncle who has allowed me to serve in the palace, and he wishes for me to serve Her Majesty to the best of my ability. That is why we are all here: so that she will have nothing to fear from her attendants."

Kristina could only agree, and be ashamed, for Hilda was clearly driven by greater purposes than her. Helga was not quite so overwhelmed, but was instead content to observe what she might have seemed like when Kristina astonished her with her speeches. And Kristina consequently began to exhibit a sort of subservience towards Hilda, for here was a lady who shared her adoration towards Her Majesty, and who was that much insightful in her admiration.

The evening grew as late as was still appropriate for Lady Hulda's visit, and Hilda expressed her regret at having to leave so soon. But it hardly a loss, as they would soon reunite at the palace, and perhaps before. The young ladies rejoined their elders with some anxiety, but were greatly relieved when they discovered that Lady Hulda seemed to have ceased assault while they were cloistered in their room. The Reeve and his daughter also chose to leave, for he felt quite exhausted after such a pleasant night.

Before Helga departed, Kristina commented to her that meeting Hilda seemed to her worth enduring her mother for one evening. When Helga once again thought of Hilda, however, she remembered how she grew reserved once she rejoined Lady Hulda, and how it was so often the daughter's role to be obedient and quiet by her mother's side. She thought that Hilda indeed seemed to be a fine and mature lady, but that it must have been little comfort for Hilda, if she had to act as such. And perhaps Hilda resented to be sent away that evening from the parlour, as if to _play with the other girls_, but Helga did not give much weight to such a contemptuous thought. Helga pondered much on what it meant to be a lady, and felt half-formed, like a sculpture left unfinished, or more the point, a young lady who felt herself a mere girl.

When Lady Hulda and her daughter reached Baron Gripp's townhouse, Hilda was obligated to provide intelligence on Helga and Kristina, who had become pliable when Hilda proved a pleasant contrast to Lady Hulda. This was precisely as Lady Hulda wished, but she found it intolerable that the Chancellor would take so long to consider how the young ladies felt and to sent them away, and cursed the insensitivity that plagued men, especially those of rank.

"Helga Calland seemed rather dull," said Hilda. "She did not speak very much, and was worried about meeting Her Majesty."

"And I can expect that you won her confidence?"

"She looked at Kristina whenever something was amiss, so she must depend on her very much. I won Kristina over, so I assume that I won Helga over."

"You should not assume things, Hilda, I thought that I would have taught you at least that much. A woman who assumes too much might as well be blind and deaf for her ignorance. But you said you won over Kristina too?"

"She trusts me very much now, I think. She acts more like someone's little sister than a young lady, so I merely acted like Rebekka would, and she was very happy with that."

"That is all good and well, but I hope that you are not too proud with yourself for winning over two girls. You will have to play the court very well if you want your brother to one day be made a baron. You will have to impress the Snow Queen enough on the matter, and ensure that your uncle, or anyone else for that matter, will not hinder us. You will have the right to be proud when we no longer need to rely on your cousin's hospitality to live as well as we ought."

Hilda agreed with obedient respect, although Lady Hulda did not feel she was wholly sincere in her humility. This she thought regrettable yet inevitable: honesty and sincerity were not virtues favoured among men and women of state and society, and affairs of court had clearly prematurely begun to corrupt Hilda. When they arrived in Baron Gripp's townhouse, Lady Hulda imparted more advice to Hilda on how she should conduct herself at court. This was last such advice she could give her for some while: Lady Hulda would depart homeward in the morning for the sake of appearances, for some might consider her dishonest if they thought that she lied to a minister of state.

**Author's Note**:

**Harken, Dear Reader! Í would like to offer my humblest apologies to any who feel that they have waited _too long_ and _unjustly_ to read this latest instalment of our story. While I am occupied with matters of Academia, I confess that I have not devoted enough to this chronicle.**

**With kind regards,**

**The Author.**


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